Are you following?
by firsttimefan
Summary: What was she supposed to do with this information? They had just dumped the information in her lap with brotherly concern and a disconcerting faith that she would know what to do. Katherine Beckett didn't have the faintest idea. Light drama with Caskett, too. NOW COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: The wording is mine but the characters aren't

Are you following?

What was she supposed to do with this information? They had just dumped the information in her lap with brotherly concern and a disconcerting faith that she would know what to do.

Katherine Beckett didn't have the faintest idea, just a faint queasiness and more than a little trepidation at having to share the fact with her partner.

The physical weight of the folder in her hand was nonexistent. It was flimsy, just unprocessed thin cardboard and a few pages of paper while the familiar feel of her phone was comforting knowing his voice would greet her with only a few lazy swipes of her fingers.

She flicked open the file again and let her eyes settle on the crime scene photo. In the crowd of people captured by the crime scene photographer, she easily picked out some of the 12th officers and some witnesses crowding the yellow tape. She had worked with them closely the last two days trying to draw out the truth.

That case was closed.

The other photo in the file was an enhanced section of the first wide shot. Through the pixilation Kate made out a general set of features and a head of dark hair as the woman headed away from the rest of the crowd, looking back over her shoulder.

This woman was barely visible in the wide shot, obviously having a disturbing ability to just fade into the background. Even with the enhanced image Kate Beckett could not get enough detail to look into this other woman's face and read her.

"Hey, Beckett," Ryan's voice followed only second after she became conscious of someone moving into her space. She dragged her eyes up and off the glossy paper to meet his gaze where he stood off her shoulder, his jacket slung across his arm.

"You guys heading out?" reawakened to the rest of the bullpen, she saw Esposito shutting down their computers.

"Yeah. All the reports are filed and are being processed before storage. That one," he nodded to the file she was holding, "Is just a copy, so we thought we'd go ahead and clear the rest."

She gave him a small nod, and sucked in a breath at the reminder. "Thanks."

"Do you need any help?"

The sincere blue eyes in front of her demanded nothing but honesty but when she answered, it was as much to convince herself as anything else. "I've got it," she assured him.

If he didn't buy her front he made no comment but just nodded and met his partner on their way towards the elevator. While he didn't always read her as well as Esposito did, she was grateful for Ryan's trusting nature; especially now. She didn't have the confidence to convince him as well as herself.

Kate dropped her eyes once more to their mystery woman and flipped the file closed. She may not know who this person was, but she did know how to deal with her partner.

…

There was something to be said for working insane hours: by the time you dragged yourself home, the traffic was manageable. The streets were never empty, not in this city, but there was a sense of calm as you drifted further from the epicenter; catching lights going out and knowing that soon you would have the chance to do the same.

The downside about finishing work at a 'normal' time was that you got to go home and wait with everyone else.

She watched the cars spilling clouds of exhaust into the fading light, all waiting, huddled together for a sign. A sign would be good, some advice as to how she was supposed to proceed.

Maybe she was just letting herself blow this out of proportion.

But at the risk of sounding like Scully, her gut told her this woman wasn't just an overly curious citizen.

…

She heard the soft notes before she finished sliding her key into the lock. One thing she had come to learn quickly about her boyfriend was that he had an eclectic taste in music There didn't seem to be anything he didn't like. Today some lounge music echoed off the nude brick walls of her apartment. More music than singing and slightly upbeat without losing its background soothing quality, it was well suited as an accompaniment for his current action.

He threw a "Hey" over his shoulder and returned his focus to the pot on her stove. She didn't think she would ever grow accustomed to seeing him standing there and looking so right. Sometimes she caught herself thinking that if this ever went south, that the memory of moments like this would haunt her and drive her into a new apartment in an attempt to escape them. So damn perfect.

Her bag found a home behind the couch and her gun and badge were only left on the coffee table as she headed straight for the kitchen and him. Kate didn't stop until she eased her arm around him and she had satisfied herself that she couldn't get any closer to him while staying fully clothed. He had looked over and away from his creation at the unusual sounds of her shoes on the hardwood floor but didn't move as she pressed herself against his back.

He nudged his head against hers when she let it fall on is shoulder but kept stirring the thick soup he had made. Chicken, garlic, onion, rosemary, thyme, a little pepper and salt. The smells were distinct and from her vantage point she saw vegetables rise and submerge in the creamy concoction as his wooden spoon made the rounds.

"Paperwork all done?"

She made a wordless note of agreement against his shoulder and sighed. His free arm caught hers around his waist and he pulled it closer to him as if willing her to take some of the light and warmth from him. She let her mouth drift across the skin from the side of his neck so she could touch her lips to the vertebrae there.

He gave a low hum she felt low in her sternum but didn't move when she rested her chin against him and returned to her earlier contemplation of their dinner.

It shouldn't be so difficult.

"Soup's on," he told her, flicking off the burner and heading her off before she could let her mind wander back to the file in her bag. "You want some bread?"

"Yeah," she released her hold on him and collected a loaf of wholegrain from the pantry, making a pit stop to gather up a bread knife and dancing around him as he snatched up the ladle before she could shut the utensils draw. He gave a triumphant grin when he managed to snag it before she could pinch his hand and she just pushed against his face affectionately, moving past him for the chopping board.

"Are you going to stay in that jacket all night?" he followed her, standing behind her and running his hands down the arms of her blazer.

"No," she sighed, depositing both bread and knife so she could roll it off her shoulders. He went to take it from her in a gentlemanly quirk he hadn't dropped yet after dating for more than six months, but she caught the sliding fabric in one hand and made a well aimed toss for the armchair in the living room.

"Can you take your shoes off too, please?" he pouted a little but with good humor. "I like my feet the way they are." His bare toes gripped at the hardwood floors pointedly. Maybe he had a point: stepping on him in stilettos right now would not be the best way to wind down.

With one hand she picked up the knife, quirking an eyebrow at him until his eyes widened in comical shock, and toed off her heels. She couldn't help but wince as she felt the small bones readjust to being flat and unconfined, but the cool surface of the floor felt good. His warmth moved away and she heard porcelain scraping lightly as he fished two bowls out. She pulled the bread towards her and began cutting into it rhythmically even as she alternately flexed each foot, resting the weight on her toes and bending it in stretches.

It was a little painful, but the relief at the loosening muscles more than made up for it. She absently studied the clean lines her legs made and reminded herself she was going to have to redo her nail polish. When this new problem had been solved. She had almost let herself forget.

With this invitation, the nagging he had banished to the back of her mind worked its way to the forefront again. The only sound as she pointed her toes was the rough catch of the serrated teeth against the crust while her mind went through all the different possibilities. An obsessed fan was the best she could come up with.

The knife came dangerously close to her hand when he grabbed her from behind.

"The things you do to me," he sounded a little breathless from watching her and a little of the tension she had felt since the boys offloaded the file on her made way for a tingle of heat in her belly.

"The things I could do to you," she corrected him. "Don't you know better than to throw yourself at someone with a knife?"

"As if a little thing like that could keep me away." He pulled her in for a kiss, deliberately taking his time and holding each of her hands firmly down on the countertop so she wouldn't reach for him and gut him. Despite the lazy, gentle circles he seemed to content himself with, the underlying heat in the tense line of him suggested he had missed her as much as she had him.

And she had missed him. But she was beginning to find her balance again now as she allowed herself to reacquaint herself with him; home.

"Welcome home," he breathed, releasing her hands but not stepping away.

"Good to be home," she admitted, no longer embarrassed to admit it. Six months had proved to be a steep learning curve. It was okay to talk with him- the man had no boundaries. It was okay to lavish the same unconditional affection on him that she had when she was a little girl and hadn't learned about independence. When she was six years old, her parents were her world. And now he was her world.

What she would have cringed at as being clingy before was just letting herself be with him. He certainly had no more hesitation when they weren't at work.

"So how about you tell me what's on your mind so we can actually enjoy the meal I slaved over while you were off saving the city?"

Kate huffed out an amused breath, shook him off and wandered out of the kitchen where she stooped to retrieve her bag, newly grounded and more confident than she had been as she felt him follow curiously. She easily picked the cardboard from where it had been nestled against her clipboard and let the bag slide boneless back to the floor as she turned and presented it to him.

His eyebrows knit together as soon as he opened it and recognized the first photo. "I thought we closed this one. We had the DNA evidence. We even got a confession." He looked up at her in askance.

"No, we did," she reassured him. "It's over."

"Then I don't get it."

She moved around to his side and drew out the enhanced photo at the back, a knot slipping back into her stomach. "Do you know this woman?"

He squinted in concentration for a long moment before shaking his head, "No. Who is she?"

"We can't get a very good idea from this photo but after canvassing the uniforms and working up a sketch, Ryan and Esposito made up a list of possibilities. They're going to work through them tomorrow."

"What did she do? Should I know her?"

"I don't know," she sighed. "Maybe."

"What's going on, Kate?"

"She was at our crime scene," Beckett stated evenly. "According to some of the officers, it's not the first time. After some of the uniforms mentioned her, Ryan and Esposito canvassed all of them and went through the other crime scene photos."

He looked up at her in surprise.

"She's been at three in the last month," Beckett said quietly.

"Is she a reporter? A blogger?"

"We don't know. We have to wait on an ID and a background check."

"But that's not what's bugging you," Castle surmised.

"Castle, she only ever comes to our scenes. We don't have any record of her at any other crime scenes."

"Okay," he wasn't understanding. "Can't you just bring her in and talk to her when we get an ID?"

"I thought about it, but it might not have anything to do with the Force," Kate allowed herself one more look at the woman whose agenda was still unknown. "She might be following you."

Maybe she had been counting on him brushing her theory off, because when he didn't reply, the gnawing concern she hoped he would tell her was ridiculous, flared sharply.

"Castle?"

"It wouldn't be the first time."

"What do you usually do?"

"If you can get me a name, I can get Black Pawn to run it against their records."

"They keep records?"

"A precaution, mostly to appease new writers about security. There's too much mail to keep but they keep a record of all the people that send it in, providing they give a name. They also keep any suspicious items."

"Okay," she breathed, happy for the direction. "If we get a match?"

"We talk to her about the appropriate boundaries and thank her for being such a dedicated fan," he shifted his weight and frowned, obviously trying to place the blurry woman in question. "But Kate, I don't think we'll get anything: most of the fan mail is anonymous, a fact I'm sure you remember from the Tisdale case. What do we do then?"

"Then it becomes police business and I'll give her fair warning," she resolved.

"Okay," his face showing the same blind faith the other members of her team had displayed earlier.

"Okay," she breathed, willing herself to shake off the anxiety.

"You know," he started lightly. "Even if she does turn out to be a stalker, we have to keep in mind not all stalkers are psychopaths."

"Are you drawing from experience again?"

"Yes," he said earnestly. "I stalk you for a living."

**Review?**


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: The wording is mine but the characters aren't

**Thanks for the reviews. Here's another chapter to keep my English from deserting me completely here, in the land of the rising sun. **

Are you following?

"_Okay," she breathed, happy for the direction. "If we get a match?"_

"_We talk to her about the appropriate boundaries and thank her for being such a dedicated fan," he shifted his weight and frowned, obviously trying to place the blurry woman in question. "But Kate, I don't think we'll get anything: most of the fan mail is anonymous, a fact I'm sure you remember from the Tisdale case. What do we do then?"_

"_Then it becomes police business and I'll give her fair warning," she resolved. _

"_Okay," his face showing the same blind faith the other members of her team had displayed earlier. _

"_Okay," she breathed, willing herself to shake off the anxiety. _

"_You know," he started lightly. "Even if she does turn out to be a stalker, we have to keep in mind not all stalkers are psychopaths."_

"_Are you drawing from experience again?"_

"_Yes," he said earnestly. "I stalk you for a living." _

…_.._

**2. **

Castle and Beckett spent the morning down in storage; both huddled together at the two small reading tables they had pushed together. The school-sized desks with single reading lamps were hardly rivals to the conference room on the fourth floor. Ryan and Esposito had already checked the photos of the crime scenes from the last month, but without a new body on the ground, Beckett had enough free time to indulge her unease and troll the older files.

The pair was more than half obscured by the large case boxes.

"Anything?" he asked, rubbing at his eyes two hours later.

"No," she groaned.

"Well, we knew it was a long shot for her to actually get caught by the photographer. It doesn't mean she wasn't there."

"Yes, but until the boys can get us a name, this is all we have."  
"I checked through some of the other 12th cases, and she hasn't come up," he frowned. "It just doesn't make sense. Why would she just appear a month ago? I haven't had any signings or appearances for months."

"It might not have been something like that," she leaned her weight on the back of the chair and let out a frustrated sigh. "For all we know right now, she could have just picked up one of your novels a month ago. Hell, she might work at the corner store and you just smiled at her when she was having a bad day."  
Her eyes opened and cut to him, taking in his stiff expression. "I'm not blaming you," she reassured him. "There are just too many questions and we don't have enough information."

"Yes well, I can be very charming," he said wryly, relaxing.

She snorted, retraining her attention on the ceiling, trying to coerce answers from the weathered tiles. After a minute of silence her eyebrows drew together.

"She only comes to our crime scenes," Beckett stated. "So how does she know when and where they are?"

"Well she can't be the murderer; we already caught them. Maybe she's watching the precinct?"

"That can't be it," she shook her head, her mouth pursed in speculation. "Two of the body drops were early calls. We came straight from my place."

"Police scanner?"

"Maybe."

Two sets of eyes surveyed the mess of paperwork, both thinking of the only other obvious reason. However after it was still notably unvoiced a minute later, Castle scooted his chair back loudly and started packing the files up again.

"I vote we find food before Tech gets the boys a name and we lose our chance."

"Food sounds good," she agreed readily, stretching her spine and reaching for the closest files.

"So," Castle queried. "Are we feeling All-American today, or are we going to spice things up a little?"  
"I could be swayed to either side," she replied a little half-heartedly.

"Really? Well, I was thinking…doner kebabs."

"That sounds just right actually," she granted with a smile. "Not to sound unpatriotic, but I was thinking of something…"

"Less likely to contribute to heart failure?"

"I was just going to say 'lighter'."

"Well that's all on you. I have no control over your substandard diction," his attempt to lighten the atmosphere back-firing spectacularly.

"Substandard?" She narrowed her eyes to hide his success.

"Did I say sub-standard?" he back pedaled. "What I meant was…"

"Yes?" she rolled her weight on to one hip and looked at him expectantly. "I'm waiting. Impress me with your _superior_ choice of words when you convey my flaws."

He swallowed but then he brought his chin up a little. "You have to admit that 'lighter' is hardly eloquent."

"But that is where you are wrong, Castle," she purred, moving deliberately into his space and watching him try not to flinch back. "It was the perfect word to describe what I wanted to say."

"Which was what exactly?"

She took his lapel in one hand and stared him down, amused when she saw his eyes widen slightly. Together or not, some things never changed.

"Exactly what I said," she breathed at him. " 'Lighter'."

He had clearly already forgotten his argument and tried to lean in and close the small distance between them, but she caught his chin and pushed him lightly away.

"Kate," he made her name in to a complaint.

"Oh no, Castle. I've learnt my lesson: not when we're working. Now don't distract me! The sooner we get this all stored, the sooner we can have lunch."

"Just to clarify," Castle looked very serious. "Is lunch still considered working?"

She rolled her eyes for him and turned away for the nearest box. "Do you have to ask this every time?"

"I like hearing the answer," unable to restrain the goofy smile. It trumped the appreciation which would have been decorating his face otherwise as she stooped in front of him to pick up the box.

"Here I was thinking you were invoking a disclaimer," she huffed. "And don't think I don't know where you're looking, Castle."

"You said I couldn't distract you," he smirked but squatting to retrieve one of the boxes regardless. "You never said I couldn't… distract myself." His sentence trailed off and he stood up sharply, looking around as if he had lost something.

"Rick?"

He ignored her and reopened one of the boxes, tossing the lid on the desk and quickly pulling out the case file. Unable to follow his intentions, Beckett stooped to store another box. Once he had it straight in his head, he would share. Her mind worked too logically to do any more than distract him when he was ferreting out these connections.

She hadn't even managed to straighten fully with the relatively light container before he caught her wrist abruptly, causing her to drop it dangerously close to his foot; a fact he didn't acknowledge.

"Kate," his eyes snapping with an intent energy, "She was only seen at three of our cases. But not at the Hackett crime scene."

Beckett picked up on his meaning as far as it went; they had four new cases this month. "We'd have to check with the officers; she might have just avoided the CSI techs that time."

"Or she arrived too late, after the photos were taken," he dismissed her argument. "But Kate, listen," his eyes demanded all her attention. "The Hackett case was an early morning caller."

"Just like the other two," Beckett raised her eyebrows, not following him.

"We spent the night at my place," he explained. "Beckett, all my windows are double-glazed. You can't see inside."

Her stomach dropped as she caught his meaning, her face turning as grim as his. "She was there for the other two when we were coming from my place." Kate finished the reasoning. This woman had known about the crime scenes, because she had been watching Beckett's apartment and had followed them.

It was like dejavu.

"She's been watching us."  
…

**Review?**


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: The wording is mine but the characters aren't

**Thanks for the reviews. Here's another chapter to keep my English from deserting me completely here, in the land of the rising sun. **

Are you following?

"_We spent the night at my place," he explained. "Beckett, all my windows are double-glazed. You can't see inside."_

_Her stomach dropped as she caught his meaning, her face turning as grim as his. "She was there for the other two when we were coming from my place." Kate finished the reasoning. This woman had known about the crime scenes, because she had been watching Beckett's apartment and had followed them. _

_It was like dejavu._

"_She's been watching us."_

…_.._

**3.**

Neither had the stomach for kebabs and barely picked at the pizzas Castle had delivered. For the first time there was a whole pizza left over to fit into the break room refrigerator without the excuse of a sudden call or break to tear them away from their meal.

They spent an unproductive hour going through the motions, opening and closing files, typing information into the database, all the while waiting for the chime of Ryan's phone. Gates stood restlessly and made her way to the window or the door frame an inordinate number of times. She had given permission to identify the mystery woman as she pertained to their homicide cases. The Captain's concern was thinly veiled as was her relief at having a legitimate reason to allow the team to pursue it. By the book.

Castle recalled the strange, questioning look she had fixed on him when they had updated her; clearly trying to ascertain his opinion. From the frown lines, he could only assume that she was thinking the same things he was: that this probably wasn't the work of a Nikki Heat fan.

He liked to think she would have allowed them the time and resources if she thought it was, but he wouldn't put any money on it. This was her protecting one of her own: a status he wasn't sure she had allowed him yet.

"Just got an email. I'm forwarding it," Ryan announced. The change in atmosphere was instantaneous, drawing Caste out of his slight slouch and pulling Kate's chin out of the hand she had propped on her desk.

"Louise Prenton," Ryan read off while Beckett opened the mail and attachment. Tech hadn't just gotten a name; there was a copy of Louise's DMV.

"Running her now," Esposito said tersely. Castle opened up a new text message box and began entering the information to send to Black Pawn.

"What do we know about her?" she asked.

"Not much," Esposito replied, his eyes rapidly scanning the document he pulled up. The printer kicked into life on the other side of the bullpen and Ryan was there before the last page was finished. "33. Lives in TriBeca."

"Job?"

"Not listed."

"Priors?" Castle looked up from his message.

"None," Ryan answered for his partner. "She's clean."

"And you're sure she's the right one?"

"Tech confirmed the facial features with all three photos and our sketch. It's a match for the DMV photo. Tech says Officers Saunders and Keene positively identified her."  
Kate looked up and saw Gates in the doorway. The older woman gave a curt nod and all four reached for their jackets, their faces set and their weapons sliding comfortingly into their holsters.

…

"How long will it take Black Pawn to get back to us with the results?" Beckett kept her focus intent on the road, practically glaring at the asphalt and slow moving cars in front of her.

"Not long. Gina said she would have the records waiting."  
She glanced over at him, her eyebrows furrowed but he was at a loss to the reason behind it, or rather, he could think of too many reasons. Ex-wife, the knowledge the records weren't going to be of much use, the fact he didn't say anything to comfort her. Maybe that she didn't have the information in hand already.

Unable to decide, he kept with silence and after a few seconds she retrained her focus on the drive. He wanted to say something, but this tense side of her always affected him, winding his muscles tighter with tension until he just sat in the passenger seat and kept his teeth clenched, trying not to implode from the pressure.

Being the focus of observation was not new to him, but he had never been one to enjoy it outside the determined public events. It was with a previously impossible fervor he wished that this time this is what it would turn out to be: some obsessed fan he could sweet talk in to leaving them alone or file a restraining order against.

Damn his gut. And the Captain for her suspicions.

He can't have set another madman after Katherine Beckett.

The closer they got to the apartment building the heavier his stomach got.

"She lives pretty close." He cleared his throat as he let the thought out.  
"Castle," she shook her head tightly.  
"You were thinking it, I was just saying it."  
"Well don't."

He didn't bother with a retort. At the moment she wasn't Kate, she was Detective Beckett and she was completely focused on a threat. He considered it a moment before realizing that he was incorrect.

At this moment she was purely Kate.

Worried and fiercely protective. Of him.

They left Ryan and Esposito in the small lobby then took the stairs up to the third floor. Despite the un-stalker-ish feel of the surroundings, Castle felt his stomach roll when they found the door. He wondered idly how much more it would take for his stomach rebel completely; or give him an ulcer.

"NYPD," Kate called, the side of her fist connecting solidly with the door.

His foot twitched restlessly at the anticipation, unsure if he wanted to hear the sound of a bolt being slid back or not. Denial could be a happy place. He looked over at his companion and saw she had internalized whatever she was feeling, leaving her face remote. He didn't miss the way one of her hands was under her long jacket though, removing any obstacles or hesitation from a smooth draw.

The corridor was well lit as they stood silently outside 306. It didn't do anything to aid the ache of trepidation and the wish that Ryan and Esposito weren't waiting at the entrance. He looked to the brown laminated door, confirming it was still silent and closed, the way it had been two seconds ago. In a habit he had picked up after running with Powell and a few other acquaintances, he dropped his eyes to the lock.

"Kate," he murmured, stepping in front of her for a better look. She followed his eyes. "This lock is new."

He took in the bronze fitting. It was much more worn than the lock itself. The metal of the locking mechanism itself was pristine and he had to assume it was the work of a fairly good locksmith. But there were no other little scratches on the metal: no one had fumbled with a key in a hurry to get out of the cold, or with unsteady, drunk hands. The lock was unmarred and subtly lighter than the rest of the fitting.

She took one look between him and the door before she dropped her hand from the holster and reached for her phone.

"Yeah Esposito. Hey, can you see if you can get a hold of the manager? I want to know how long Prenton has been living here. Ryan can interview the doorman and keep watch."

Driving past her own apartment a mere two minutes before she pulled up here must have started her thinking, but he couldn't regret her move towards the possibility this might not have anything to do with him at all. If it would make her more careful, he didn't care. Just as long as she stayed safe and no one tried to blow up her apartment.

She snapped the phone closed and repeated her demand on the door. "Detective Beckett, NYPD. Open this door."

His eyes clamped closed. She announced her name – to a possibly unhinged stalker.

The vibration of his phone saved her from a reprimand when he opened Gina's message.

_We can't find any record of a Louise Prenton, Rick. In your mail or anyone else's. We haven't had too many odd ones lately but you can take them in if you need to. _

"Gina?"

He nodded. He had anticipated the answer, but upon receiving it was aware just how unprepared he was to have it confirmed.

"Nothing?" she surmised.

He shook his head, his face stiff with keeping it under control.

The door swung inwards, startling both of them, Kate's hand diving back into her jacket. When they saw who had opened the door however, their movements hitched.

"Detective Beckett," the voice was warm and delighted and came from a smile that was decidedly crooked. It didn't look roguish or playful on this man's face; it looked distinctly unnatural. Just like the sandy brown hair which was overly styled and screaming bottle-born.

The anxiety he felt earlier sky rocketed as he took in the other man's careful appearance. It had to be a joke.

Beckett recovered before he could. "NYPD," she identified herself again. "We're looking for Miss Louise Prenton."

"She's not here, Kate," the man answered, gesturing for her to step in. The movement was restrained by the dress shirt and jacket he was wearing. Castle felt a little nauseous at the way his own outfit of two days ago had been recreated on this man. Just like the hair color, the hair cut, even the smile.

At least he would never have to wear that shirt again. Kate had ripped it off him.

Beckett didn't flinch at the use of her given name. "Who are you?"

"I'm her partner," he flashed that unnatural smile again. "She doesn't really like the term 'boyfriend'."  
"And what is your name?"

"How rude of me," he took Beckett's hand and cradled it between his own. "Thomas Donovan," he tried to bring the hand to his lips but she firmly pulled it away. He didn't acknowledge this rejection verbally; instead his eyes gleamed a little more.

"Mr. Donovan," her hand tensed into a claw at her side. "Do you know when Ms. Prenton will be back?"

"I'm afraid she didn't quite mention," he smiled pleasantly.

"Did she tell you where she was going?"

"What can I say? She's a free spirit. I'm sure you understand."

"How long have the two of you been together?" Castle asked, entering their conversation for the first time and holding up the picture frame from the coffee table.

"A month."

"Must be going well," Castle gave him a knowing smile, trying not to shoot Beckett a look at the appearance of the time period that would activate Thomas' firewall. "She gave you a key and leaves you alone in her place after only a month."  
He spread his hands depreciatingly. "What can I say?" he repeated but his attention was solely on Beckett.

"Oh, so many things," Castle never let the polite smile slip. But he could feel his gums protesting the force of his teeth rebelling against each other.

"May I ask what this is about?" Thomas asked Beckett.

"We just had a few questions to ask her," Beckett was still in control of her poker face.

"I'm sure she'll be sorry to have missed you," he didn't sound sorry on his girlfriend's behalf, but more admiring.

Castle fought off a shudder on Kate's behalf.

"Before we go," he addressed Thomas. "Do you mind if I borrow your bathroom?" He was loathe to leave Kate alone with his doppelganger, but she could take care of herself and they really needed to have a look around. They couldn't have come this far just to have a five minute conversation.

From the reluctant look she shot him, she was less than thrilled at being left alone as well. Her host was exultant however and merely waved towards the back of the apartment, already moving closer to Beckett.

"I'll be back in a minute," Castle assured her, brushing her shoulder lightly with his on the way past: the most he could do in company. She leaned into the brief contact and her eyes tracked him until he was in the short hallway.

When he was sure he was out of sight, he pulled out his phone and opened a text message to Ryan while he poked his nose in to the bathroom. There was nothing obvious out of place so he crossed to the partially closed door opposite. Maybe this is where Thomas had been coming from when he opened the door.

It was the bedroom.

The bed took over a large proportion of the space and he saw a camera on a low dresser. There was a laptop with the screen saver activated open on the comforter. A quick glance at the customized screen saver photos fading in and out had his stomach acid churning. It was pictures of them- he and Kate. He ran his finger over the mouse pad and was confronted with another picture of them.

It was from last night. The wooden blinds over Kate's windows obscured a good deal, but there was no mistaking at which point in the evening it had been taken. Kate was straddling his lap, both of their pants not in the picture. Neither was her shirt. Thankfully he knew the removal of the rest of their clothing had not taken place until they had moved to the bathroom, but was aware that there was more than one time in the last month where they had taken full advantage of the open planning of her apartment.

It looked like they weren't the only ones. Unconsciously recalling the flush on Thomas's cheeks when he opened the door, Castle could only guess Mr. Donovan liked it very much. Enough that he wasn't able to open the door the first time.

He tasted bile in his throat, creeping up on the back of his tongue and he dry heaved, struggling for control.

Not sure if he had the control to talk, he started on the text he had neglected when he entered the room.

_**Ryan, get Esposito and get up here.**_

…

…

**Review?**


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: The wording is mine but the characters aren't

**Thanks for the reviews. Here's another chapter to keep my English from deserting me completely here, in the land of the rising sun. **

Are you following?

_He tasted bile in his throat, creeping up on the back of his tongue and he dry heaved, struggling for control._

_Not sure if he had the control to talk, he started on the text he had neglected when he entered the room. _

_**Ryan, get Esposito and get up here.**_

…_.._

4.

It seemed Thomas Donovan did not understand the idea of personal space. To be fair though, her idea of what was considered to be her own space drastically increased around him. Beckett tried to step away, as if looking absently around the room while waiting for Castle, but every time she regained her distance, he would close in again.

The fact that he was carefully made up to look like her partner and boyfriend was only added to the creep factor.

What ever Castle was doing, she hoped he would finish quickly.

"So how did you meet Ms. Prenton?" she asked, shooting for conversational to pass off her unease. Also, to remind him of his girlfriend.

"Through work."

"And where exactly does she work?"

"Not hers," he skillfully evaded the question. "Mine."

He went to continue but Castle reemerged from the back of the apartment. She looked at him with barely restrained relief until she saw his white, strained face. He didn't slow as he stared for her but deliberately cut in front of her, blocking her from Thomas, every line of him rigid.

"Detective Beckett," his voice was rough. "I think there's something you should see."

She couldn't remember seeing him so affected by their work, outside her mother's case or when they were fighting for their lives. What the hell was going on? She moved from behind him, retracing his path to the hall, very aware that he moved with her, blocking her from any contact with Donovan.

Surely he hadn't found a body? Donovan would be out the door by now if that were the case.

Running didn't seem to have occurred to Thomas Donovan, instead he had started to try the opposite and block them from entering. Castle put his size to good use, blocking all passage through the hall and making himself into a barricade between her and Donovan: imitating Castle or not, Donovan was a full head shorter and apparently not as muscled under the suit he wore as she knew her boyfriend to be.

When he failed to get past Castle, Donovan settled for yelling. "You can't go in there."

She shot him a sharp look and stepped in enough to turn on the light. In the hall came the sound of a scuffle and she looked back in the hall way to see Castle throwing the smaller man off. Donovan must have made a last running attempt to tackle his way through Castle's barrier.

She moved to help her partner but the front door was thrown open and Ryan and Esposito poured into the room, weapons drawn.

"You can't come in here!" Donovan's voice was shrill. "This is private property. You have no warrant!"

"You're wrong about that," Esposito's voice was hard.

"A message from a member of our team asking for back up gives us probable cause," Ryan's blue eyes matched his partner's voice.

"And," Beckett added, grateful for Castle's intervention while exploring. "As I recall, this isn't your house."

Donovan whirled to face her but the newcomers each took and arm, stowing their weapons and subduing the livid man.

"Keep him out of our hair, would you?" she asked and both men nodded shortly. She made her way into the bedroom with Castle close behind her. As with the rest of the apartment, it was somewhat lacking in ornamentation, in keeping with Castle's theory that she had only moved in recently. Recently enough for the lock to be obviously new and for there to be empty, flattened cardboard boxes off the kitchen.

Unsure what she was supposed to be looking at she let Castle move past her. He stopped at the side of the bed and jerked his chin at the laptop. What could be on there that disturbed him this much?

She took a steadying breath and moved to his side to watch the screen.

When she processed the image there, she forgot about expelling the air. She was vaguely aware of Castle pressed along her side but her eyes never left the photo. The longer she stared at it the stronger the itch behind her eyes became.

Kate wanted to believe it was looking at the screen that was causing her eyes to blur, but she knew better. She had felt it before, standing confronted with another's obsession with her; an obsession which had overtaken a whole apartment.

It was shock and it was anger and it was hurt.

"The screen saver is all us," he said quietly.

She closed her eyes against the tears. She couldn't do this now.

"Kate?" he sounded a little lost and just as sickened as she was.

Turning away from the screen she pulled out her phone and hit the speed dial button she had used so infrequently since the person on the other end of the line also changed. Despite their undefined relationship, Beckett was relieved for once that there was someone else to make the decisions, and someone she could go to. Because she was at a loss here.

"Detective Beckett," her Captain greeted her.

"Sir," she replied evenly. She never thought there would be a day where hearing the older woman's voice would make things seem better.

"What is the situation?" Gates asked brusquely.

"We are in Louise Prenton's apartment. She's not here, but her boyfriend let us in."

"And?"

"Castle," she paused to take a much needed breath. "Found photos on the computer."

"You found your stalker?"  
"Without talking to her, the evidence is circumstantial at best," Beckett sighed, feeling a little defeated. "We don't know who took those pictures."

"So what is your next move, Detective?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "I'm in homicide. I can hardly ask a plain clothes to watch the door for Prenton coming back, and I don't have grounds to call in a surveillance detail on a possible stalker either."

"You're right about that. Do you know her current location?"

"No. The boyfriend has been…uncooperative. Even if he were willing to help, I'm not sure he even knows."

This time the sigh of frustration came from the other end of the phone. "Fine. Well at least you're legally allowed to confiscate the computer. I assume it was out in plain sight when Mr. Castle found it?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Take the computer and we can work from other angles back here."  
"Thank you, Sir."

"What about Donovan?" Castle asked as she slipped her phone back into her jacket pocket.

"Unfortunately," her mouth twisted in distaste. "Being creepy is not a crime."  
"It should be," he muttered darkly. "I am never teasing you about Natalie Rhodes again."

She shook her head and was almost shocked to feel her lips start to curve. Smiling had seemed impossible.

"You know Thomas is going to call her and she'll run," he said tersely.

"I know," she said softly. "But I can't take him in, and I can't steal his phone."

"Even if you did, it's not like he wouldn't just leave and find her."

"No," she disagreed. "I really don't think he knows where Louise is."  
"So," he said after a quick moment of contemplation. "We get his phone away from him so he has to wait here to tell her about our visit. We can ask the doorman to contact you when she gets here- that wouldn't be violating any of her rights."

"And then we get down here before she can rabbit," Beckett finished for him, still avoiding looking at the laptop. "It's not a bad plan, Castle. But how were you planning on getting his phone away from him?"

"I'm thinking."

"Well, you think about that while you pack up the laptop. I'll go and relieve the boys of their babysitting duties."

"Kate," he squeezed her hand. "I'm sorry."

"Castle," she expelled quietly. "We don't know anything. She could just be unhinged and using Thomas as a substitute for you."  
"I don't care if this has anything to do with Nikki Heat or not. I'm still sorry."

"Yeah, me too."  
…

**Review?**


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: The wording is mine but the characters aren't

There is a lot of fanfic out there at the moment, so I appreciate you reading this. I don't want it to get clichéd (any more than it is), so ideas and comments would be great. I just want to write a story I would like to read.

Also someone asked about security, and I'll get too it, because at the moment they still don't really know anything...hard to protect against every stranger you see.

Are you following?

…_.._

"_Kate," he squeezed her hand. "I'm sorry."_

"_Castle," she expelled quietly. "We don't know anything. She could just be unhinged and using Thomas as a substitute for you."  
"I don't care if this has anything to do with Nikki Heat or not. I'm still sorry."_

"_Yeah, me too."_  
…

**5.**

"You two can back down," she sighed when she returned to the main room. The remaining members of her team had backed Donovan into the couch where he seemed too anxious to move.

"Kate," he exclaimed happily, standing, his intent to go to her broadcasted across his face. He found his path blocked by Ryan and Esposito who eyed him darkly. "What are you doing?" he flinched. "She told you to back down!"

The more she thought about Donovan's erratic behavior, the more she had to consider that he might be not altogether mentally stable. Not just a creep. The suave, collected man had crumpled too quickly.

"Detective Beckett," Esposito stated flatly. His open reluctance to let Donovan free seemed to make the smaller man even more nervous.

"What?" Donovan asked.

Ryan was solid at his shoulder. "You can call her Detective Beckett."

Their objection and disgust on her behalf was endearing, but she was unsure as how to answer it. Though the idea made her sick to her stomach, she considered using the opportunity to play good cop and get Donovan on her side.

"Kate?"

She caught a glimpse of Donovan throwing both hands out, a very clear 'not me', before she turned to look at Castle coming down the hall, surprised he was using her name in front of everyone else.

"Yeah?"

"All ready to go," he hefted the laptop case in one hand and crossed the room to join her, a hand coming to rest on her hip. She hadn't told Donovan they were taking the laptop yet. She shot a look at him, trying to prepare herself for the argument that was going to cause, and sure enough his face was tight with outrage.

His eyes weren't on the black travelling case however.

Of all the times for Castle to go and make a dominant gesture, he had to do it now? Kate turned slightly to give her partner a hard look but he was focused on the other men in the room. She knew him well enough to know he was trying to tell them he knew what he was doing, but it probably looked like a challenge to Donovan. Part of his plan? It better be; if there was one thing she really didn't like, it was men used her to boost themselves. But this was Castle. She hoped he knew what he was doing.

"Thanks," she gave him a hard smile, playing along. His grip tightened on her in reassurance.

Seeing this, Donovan stalked away from Ryan and Esposito towards the front door, clearly wanting them gone. From the ways his hands were not completely steady, he had reached his limit. He fished up his cell phone on the way. Crap.

"I'll be sure to tell Louise you were here," he said shortly.

"And that she can claim her computer at the 12th precinct," Kate's answer spurred the boys into action and they moved to file out the door. Castle however, didn't budge. His grip on her kept her stationary as well. When they saw Castle and Beckett weren't following they paused just inside the door.

Donovan still had his phone but she couldn't think of any other way to stall or remove it from him. Castle's hand moved to wrap fully around her waist and hold her against him.

"Kate," he spoke from far too close her ear, speaking in a voice that would carry to the other three, but echoed against her eardrums. Deliberately flaunting his right to use her name and touch her.

She twisted in his grasp, fully intending to thank him for trying to deafen her, but he used her momentum to pull her flush against his chest. She narrowed her eyes at him dangerously but he didn't look repentant at all, instead he flickered his gaze towards the door in a move so quick, it would have been impossible for Donovan to pick up on it, especially in his unsettled state of mind.

This was his plan? What was the plan exactly?

"Don't touch her," Donovan's voice was strangled and barely made it out of his throat, let alone to them.

Castle bent his head and lovingly indulged her with a series of Eskimo kisses. Whether this was a side-effect of his plan, her heart rate was responding, witnesses or no. He may have been using the situation to his advantage, but the feeling in his face was genuine, the hard light she had seen in the bedroom lifting slightly. She felt her breath leave her and her lips part without her permission, but Castle always had been able to get her to do things she wouldn't otherwise. He could make her shameless.

"Kate!" Donovan called out, his voice stronger now and the tremors didn't sound like fear. "Get away from him!"

"Kate," Castle whispered in her ear, barely a caress to make up for the earlier assault of sound. He traced the curve of her ear to where it joined her neck and he was content to breathe there, in full knowledge the anticipation was making her impatient.

Because he liked it when she couldn't take his teasing anymore and took control.

"Kate!" Donovan barked. "Don't!"

Never tell Kate Beckett she couldn't do something. Her eyes flashed and the hand that shot up from his chest to his hair was almost violent in its grip. Rather than waiting, Castle hungrily closed his mouth over hers in uncharacteristic heat; the sudden onslaught leaving her reeling. This was for special occasions, or when she had worked him to near breaking.

The moan that tingled on both of their tongues could have belonged to either, but she relished it: the taste of it and the way it served to pull them impossibly closer.

Then there was a sharp pain that snapped her eyes open and propelled head back violently.

"Castle!" she exclaimed, her speech slightly affected and her hand flying to her forehead.

"That's going to bruise," he sounded resigned and a little breathless, his free hand also against his forehead.

"You bit me!" she resisted the urge to extend her tongue and inspect it for damage, but that _hurt_.

"Yeah, sorry about that. That was not part of my plan."

Plan? She looked around, abruptly conscious of their surroundings again and the way she had wrapped herself around him. She dropped her knee from where it was hitched over his hip and followed the noise to Donovan, struggling wildly between Ryan and Esposito. Kate looked between them and the man she had just very publicly claimed as her own.

His eyes were on the ground behind them. She followed his gaze and saw the scattered plastic and electronic parts then finally piecing together what must have happened, taking in the slight dent in the wall.

Castle had pushed Donovan to the point he threw the phone to break them apart.

"Did that hit you?" she asked her partner. "Or was it the sound that made you jump and head butt me?"

"A graze," he shrugged.

"Nice plan," she complimented him.

"I enjoyed it," he returned with a smile.

"Yes, well thank you very much for the show," Esposito broke the moment. "Now what are we going to do with this?" he looked disdainfully on the more than half-slumped form in his grip.

She shrugged, fiercely resentful that she couldn't even bring him in for assaulting an officer, because all said and done, Castle wasn't technically a member of the New York Police Department.

"You could press charges for assault," she suggested offhand to Castle noting the statement didn't really register with Donovan who had raised his head at the sound of her voice to stare at her in betrayal, as if she had cheated on him.

"I don't think so," Castle replied. "If our positions were reversed," he broke off with a shrug, but his jaw had tightened. She wondered at the reaction but stored it away for later.

Kate nodded shortly and directed him towards the exit. Ryan and Esposito let Donovan go, Ryan taking point and Esposito waiting until they had passed out of the apartment before following them and closing the door.

"Ryan, can you run the computer?" she asked quietly.

The man looked a little surprised but took it from Castle. "Wouldn't Tech be better?"

"They can have at it later if we need to," she murmured. "But I would rather we dealt with it ourselves," she felt Castle come to hover protectively against her back. She didn't know what else was on that computer, and she wasn't going to trust her personal life with anyone else.

"I'll get started as soon as we get back," he nodded.

…

**Review?**


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: The wording is mine but the characters aren't

There is a lot of fanfic out there at the moment, so I appreciate you reading this. I don't want it to get clichéd (any more than it is), so ideas and comments would be great. I just want to write a story I would like to read.

Are you following?

"_Ryan, can you run the computer?" she asked quietly._

_The man looked a little surprised but took it from Castle. "Wouldn't Tech be better?"_

"_They can have at it later if we need to," she murmured. "But I would rather we dealt with it ourselves," she felt Castle come to hover protectively against her back. She didn't know what else was on that computer, and she wasn't going to trust her personal life with anyone else. _

"_I'll get started as soon as we get back," he nodded. _

…_.._

**6.**

No one said anything when they woke the computer up in the conference room. Castle felt a new wave of outrage as their coworkers witnessed the very intimate moment between them the night before.

Gates took one look and Castle thought he would have to use a chisel to get the frown lines off her forehead.

"Do you know when this was taken?" she asked.

"Last night," Kate's face was stony.

"And where it was taken from?"

"Not yet, Sir," she admitted.

"It was a Canon EOS 5D. It has quite a powerful zoom," Castle offered. "It was left out in the bedroom."  
The Captain nodded, assimilating the new information, her eyes glancing quickly at the glaring photo. "Ryan, you work with this computer and get all you can from it; you can use the room for the rest of the day. Don't tell anyone else. The last thing we need are these photos getting out."

Both Castle and Beckett shifted uneasily.

"Esposito," Gates continued, "You do what you can about finding out where the photos were taken. Maybe we can find some witnesses on the other end. Until we know who took them, we can't get a warrant to search the place more thoroughly and see if she poses any threat."  
Esposito nodded, sharing a brief look with Ryan.

"What so you want us to do?" Beckett asked resolutely. He glanced over at her, pride warring with concern. She had hidden away her emotions, even from him, determined to be ready and deal with the problem.

"You can take Mr. Castle and go home."

When Kate actually took a moment before opening her mouth, Gates' eyebrows rose, obviously expecting her detective to raise an instant objection. But Castle knew her better. After coming back to the precinct after the summer, she had been more even keeled and more adept at balancing work and her life outside of it. It was a true testament to her progress now that she was giving serious consideration to her Captain's order.

Then her head tilted a fraction and she gave her head a small shake. "While I appreciate the offer Captain," she started. "This shouldn't take priority over my cases, and if this was about our safety, we all know we are safest here."

"I'm aware of that, Detective," Gates responded easily. "But we don't have any reason yet to believe there is any threat to either of you at present."

"Then, Sir, I don't quite…" Kate broke off looking puzzled.

"My rule about Detectives working their own cases still stands. And if you stay here and try to work other cases, I'm not sure I could fault you if you happened to drift into this room. Trust me, Detective, take the rest of the day or work from home, but you don't need to be here. Your boys here will keep you updated with any progress."

Her meaning was clear to all and Castle was indescribably grateful to the woman for giving Kate a graceful out.

Kate glanced back down at the laptop on the desk which had reverted to the screen saver due to disuse and saw some of the photos of themselves for the first time. His breath caught as his stomach rolled at the intimacy of even the platonic shots and he knew seeing these, Kate wouldn't back down.

His discomfort must have been audible because she turned to look at him, her eyes still hard and a little moist. She expelled a short breath and took his hand.

"In that case, Sir," she swallowed. "We'll be taking the afternoon off."

Gates just nodded, not debating her use of plurals.

Kate locked eyes with the other two members of her team in silent apology and entreaty.

"Go," Esposito said evenly.

…

She started driving for the loft and he indulged in a mental sigh of relief. The morning had left him on edge, and he wasn't sure he would be able to hold it together if they got into a fight now.

"How many times has this happened to you?" her voice broke into his introspection.

He shrugged, still trying to tamp down the sick feeling to a tolerable level.

"You mean you don't know?" she must have caught the gesture in her peripheral vision.

"Black Pawn doesn't really want to worry me every time one of my crazier fans makes an appearance. Very rarely you'll get one that tries to follow me after a signing, or when I go into town."

She was silent and he anxiously examined his statement before he closed his eyes in remorse. Crazy fans following him after a signing? Kate had done that.

"I'm not famous enough to warrant actual stalkers," he offered, trying to make it right. They were partners, but he couldn't deny the doubt. She couldn't leave. "I've never had to take out a restraining order either."

"And the photos?"

"I've never had a picture taken where I haven't been in public," his throat worked past the bitter taste the topic provoked. The only silver lining he could find was in the fact that they hadn't made it into public media. But there was the possibility.

Anything but that.

Because that would be the end.

Castle didn't need a writer's imagination to consider the reparations that would cause. He didn't know if he could resent her for wanting to run after something like that.

"Castle?"

He was revolted with the realization that he still hadn't managed to forgive her completely. He thought that they had healed those wounds during the summer, but he still didn't trust her not to leave him. Gina left him. Meredith had too, and she had a child with him. That didn't stop her; she packed up and ran as far as she could.

Neither of them had anything like this to contend with either. This was the second madman he had sent after Kate.

"Rick!" she said more insistently and he couldn't repress a slight flinch. Kate reached across and caught one of his hands, balancing her attention between him and the road. "Hey," her voice was soft. "Where did you go?"

He just shook his head. He trusted her.

"Okay," she frowned a little, but left it alone without removing her hand. "Later?"

"Maybe," he offered half-heartedly. In twenty years maybe, on holiday when they were very drunk.

"Nothing is going to happen to you, Castle," her fierce statement came after nearly a full minute of uncomfortable silence.

"It's not me that I'm worried about," he muttered.

…

"Go…where?" the blank shock was not an expression she was accustomed to seeing on Richard Castle's face.

"I don't know." She was just a cop; no one said she had to have a plan all the time.

He was looking at her like she had sprouted another head.

"Come on, Castle," she sighed. "You can't honestly expect me to hide away up here."

"It's not hiding."

"Castle, you told the doorman to ring everyone up. Even Martha."

His face was shadowed for a fleeting second with something like hurt for standing against him, before he reined it in. Vibrating with energy again he fell back into the pacing which had prompted her to suggest they have an afternoon out. But there was more to his reaction than just worry over a potential stalker, and for the life of her she couldn't understand what it was; especially now that he seemed to be trying his best to just lock it away from her. Sometimes, they were very similar.

"I get it," she took a step closer and stopping his movements. "I do. But Castle, nothing is going to happen to you." For the briefest second she thought she saw his eyes clear a little, but at the last part of her sentence any calm he had regained left him and he threw himself away from her in agitation.

"You don't get it do you, Kate? They don't give a damn about me. It's you."

Her eyes shuttered at the intensity of his outburst. "You don't know that."

"Yes, I do," each word was almost bitten off. "And you are out of your mind it you think I'm letting you out of my sight until we know what the hell is going on."

She had been a little overwhelmed at the strength of his worry and protectiveness, but couldn't help but bristle as he finished. "Let?" she asked quietly, trying not to make it any worse but feeling a little like shouting herself.

His chin was set and his face shone with it. "That's right," he said forcefully. "I am not going to lose you, Katherine Beckett."

Her indignation choked as he voiced what she had been feeling all day. "And I'm not going to lose you," she replied just as firmly. "But I am not going to duck and cover every time a possible problem comes our way." She saw his jaw tighten and held up a hand to head off his response. "I've only just started really living my life again. Our life, and Rick, I don't intend to stop."

He just glared at her.

"I promised you I would stay safe and come back to you," she closed the short distance. "But that's not going to work if you never let me go."

"I don't want to."

"I know," she whispered.

"So where does that leave us?" she was able to read some hurt in his sentence as well as worry.

"That leaves us to find something we agree on," she told him resolutely.

"Security," he immediately answered.

"A bodyguard isn't going to stop someone taking a photo or protect us from someone we don't even know. With a good camera Louise won't have to be anywhere near us to take the photos. If it's not her then when we get a name and a face locked and that person is at large, I will have no objections."

"Alright," he huffed out a breath which must have come all the way from his toes. "We're going to catch this guy."

Kate nodded. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

"Likewise," the heat under it catching her a little off guard. Writers could be men of action.

"Ryan and Espo know what they're doing," she said and he just nodded his agreement.

He didn't give her anything back, and she tried to put her new experiences to work and talk to him, be more open with him.

"It makes me sick," she confessed, tucking her chin so she wouldn't have to look at him, not ready for that much yet. He just stared at her; she could feel it. She waited for him to reply but listening proved fruitless when he placed a kiss to the crown of her head: a wordless agreement which left her all the more determined to face this thing down together with him.

"You can't leave me," his voice broke and her head snapped up in time to see the treaty in his eyes.

"You're an idiot," she huffed in disbelief, trying to retrieve her stomach from the basement. "Don't you get it?" she asked, staying strong in the face of his doubt. "You're the one who isn't going anywhere." She closed the smallest space and took his chin in her hand. "You're mine."

She held herself back from kissing him, using all the strength she had to convince him. Someone could put a photo up on the big screen at the Yankee stadium and she would say she hated it but he had to know she couldn't hate it too much. Despite all the ribbing and suggestive comments it would get her, it would just make her job that much easier: that many less people she would have to tell that Richard Castle was hers. For good. A picture in the paper a year from now or the super screen now. Though she would prefer one fully clothed.

"I love you," she told him quietly but meaning each of the three syllables, garnering a sharp inhale from him.

His eyes cleared of doubt and made way for a different darkness.

"Finally something we can agree on."

**Thanks for reading. Let me know what you thought?**


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: The wording is mine but the characters aren't

Sorry if this update was late...is late. I am now discovering exactly how hard it is to write mysteries...convincingly. Lots of crazy ideas but they end up screaming at me. Reality works best - if I can manage it.

Are you following?

…..

"_I love you," she told him quietly but meaning each of the three syllables, garnering a sharp inhale from him._

_His eyes cleared of doubt and made way for a different darkness._

"_Finally something we can agree on."_

…

**7.**

"Castle," the pant escaped from the back of her throat but he caught it and breathed it back into her.

It was impossible to predict as he never seemed content to stay and commit one part of her to memory. Like a child, he had to have it _all_. And he never failed to erase any logical thinking from her, making any predictions impossible. It would take years, decades, to learn the extent of the power this man had over her. The rest of her life.

However long that might be.

She felt him begin to pull away and in panic she dragged him back forcefully into her. His breath hissed against her and she felt a catch when her fingernails where she broke his skin.

"Kate," he groaned, the light stubble starting on his face teasing her hot skin and his fingers gripping against her hipbones, his hands long since finding a home against her skin. When they slipped and trailed, her breath caught and she arched further into him and then she wasn't the only one fighting to breathe.

The steady thrumming shaking her body with each heart beat was ever refining into a concentrated ache. Every time. So quickly. The wonder of it never ceased and never failed to fan the flames of need higher.

He was hers, damn it; and she would be worse than damned if she ever let anything happen to him.

Not caring if he was prepared or not, she cocked a knee over his hip, dragging them closer as she had in Louise Prenton's apartment earlier in front of her colleagues. Recalling the interruption she clamped both arms around his neck and pulled herself up until both legs fully encircled him.

"Today might be a nice day to stay home after all," she puffed.

"Yeah?" he dropped his mouth to trace her collarbones before it dipped drastically to the valley of her chest, taking shameless advantage of her new elevation.

"Yeah," she breathed, struggling to find purpose and anchor. "Especially when you decided to have…all visitors announced," she pulled his head up to meet hers again, needing to taste him. "No interruptions."

"No," he groaned, denying her. "Don' jinx it."

"Jinx it?" she laughed breathlessly, reveling that he could make her laugh when they were doing this. "How old are you, Castle?"

"Old enough," he rolled into her and she instinctively clamped every muscle around him.

When the throb of almost painful heat dissipated enough to permit her breath she used it to ensure he wouldn't tease her anymore. "Then prove it."

The buzzing in her back pocket pushed her closer into him in surprise. "You can't be serious," she huffed.

"I hate being right," he groaned against her shoulder where it had dropped from exploring her neck. She used his neck for support, trusting him not to let her fall as she let one of her arms snake back and remove the device.

"Espo," she sighed when she regained balance and saw the display. She hit the receive button and slid slowly down Rick's body. "Hey Espo," she sighed glancing at Castle to see his face had frozen again. She put it on speakerphone.

"Beckett, we got a break," Esposito wasted no time.

"Tell me," she led Castle to the couch, mourning the lightness of a few minutes ago.

"We just got news Thomas Donovan has been admitted to New York Presbyterian."

"What?" the exclamation came from her and Castle.

"Neighbors complained about the noise and the doorman went up. When he didn't get a reply, he went in and found Donovan."

"What's his status?"

"He'll be fine, unfortunately; just some bruises and a bump on the head. The nurses said they'd be keeping him for a few hours to make sure everything is fine before releasing him."

"The doorman didn't see anyone?"

"He didn't receive any visitors for the Prenton apartment. The place does have a fire escape though that I'll look into."

"Okay, thanks for the update. Maybe you can try and get Donovan's story out of him."

"That's the thing, Beckett," he said quickly before she could hang up.

"What?"

"He's insistent he'll only talk to you."

"Great," she sighed, feeling Castle tense even further. "Does Gates know about this?"

"Yeah, and she isn't happy."

They could make T-shirts for that club. "Wonderful," she groaned, a hand catching at her hair. "Has there been any more progress?"

"Ryan finished sweeping the computer," Esposito was quiet.

"And?"

"According to the time stamps, who ever took those photos has been following you for over a month," Esposito reported, the sentence spoken too slowly. "I'm trying to work out some of the more public shots from the last couple of days and identify where they were taken."

"Just how many photos are we talking about here, Espo?"

She was met with silence.

"Javi?" she demanded.

"A few hundred," his voice was tight and she had to wonder exactly what he and Ryan had seen in those photos.

"Hundred?" she repeated.

"Most are of the two of you, but there are a lot of singles too. I'm sorry, Beckett." She flinched when Castle stood abruptly from the couch.

She thought of someone following Castle while he was alone and felt her stomach physically revolt.

"Beckett," Esposito continued. "They were of you."

…

Kate expected more of a reaction. A typically mild-mannered man, she knew Richard Castle tended to slip when he believed someone he cared about was in danger, imaginary or otherwise. But as soon as Esposito had shared the information he had just gone very quiet and collected his jacket. Pulling into a parking space at NY Presbyterian after a quiet drive she would have to describe him as determined.

The short but accurate directions from reception led them to a wing of portioned cubicles, most unoccupied. Treatment complete, Thomas Donovan's curtains were pulled back, leaving him sitting on the hospital bed in a pair of jeans and a white T-shirt. The side of his face was starting to turn an ugly shade of purple, stemming from an impressive contusion across the cheekbone.

"Mr. Donovan."

"Detective Beckett," his face alight with the same joy he displayed when the apartment door swung open. Castle couldn't help but step closer into her side and position his shoulder just a little ahead of hers, reversing their usual arrangement. "And Mr. Castle," Donovan made no attempt to mask his lack of enthusiasm at the second of his visitors.

"We heard you had a wee accident, Tom," Castle replied impassively. "So we thought we'd come and wish you a speedy recovery."

Beckett started before Donovan could reply. "What happened, Mr. Donovan?"

"Just a minor quarrel," he shrugged.

"And who was this quarrel with? Louise?"

He just shrugged again, but far from looking unconcerned, he seemed to be taking puckish pleasure in stringing it out.

"Why were the two of you fighting?" Castle asked.

"She wasn't very happy that I threw my phone at you," a hint of a sneer dampening his flare of ego.

"And why would that be?" Kate asked. She doubted it was because of the dent he put in Louise's wall.

"Exactly what I said," Donovan smiled at her. Was it wrong of her to hope that smiling was painful for him right now? "When I told her I wished I had better aim, she hit me with the fry pan."

"Where is Ms. Prenton now?"

"Promise you'll arrest her?" Kate frowned at his question, not replying but staring him down. There was something strange about the man, like he had changed since just that morning. "I don't know," Donovan sighed eventually. "I was out before I hit the floor."

"Why is she following Detective Beckett?" Castle didn't raise his voice at all but the fierce edge to it was unmistakable. Despite this, Donovan didn't look inclined to answer him, apparently enjoying the reversal of the power relationship, and Kate understood the difference. It was the way he treated Castle. This morning, he had largely ignored Castle during the questioning, but now his posture was openly hostile.

Kate liked him better when Ryan and Esposito were there to babysit.

"Donovan," she warned him.

At being directly addressed by her, he smiled again. "She was curious."

"Curious," she repeated.

"Her best friend's mother was murdered and you worked the case," he watched her face carefully. "After the case closed apparently you were the only thing she could talk about. Louise had enough and left her to deal with her issues. Of course she had to wonder about the stranger who suddenly made her not enough anymore."

"What is the friend's name?" Beckett asked, intent, but he just shrugged dismissively, his face tight.

"Then why would she take those photos?" Castle sounded confused.

"Guess you made quite the impression," even half purpling, his face couldn't hide the obvious beginnings of a leer.

Despite being hit on by the same ass for the second time today, she felt confident again. She remembered that case. It didn't matter that Donovan couldn't retain the name before tossing Louise into his bed for a sympathetic, comforting shag; Kate could never forget the families. Especially not the daughter who had opened up to her so much after her mother was murdered.

Now she had Louise's best friend and some possible answers. Phone already in hand, she nodded to Castle and stepped out to get a possible location on their suspect.

…

**Thanks for reading. Let me know what you thought?**


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: The wording is mine but the characters aren't.

Are you following?

…..

_Now she had Louise's best friend and some possible answers. Phone already in hand, she nodded to Castle and stepped out to get a possible location on their suspect. _

…

**8.**

The two men remaining in the small space happily ignored each other waiting for the detective to return until Castle caught another person walk past and do a double take. After seeing the way Donovan had usurped and downgraded Castle's image, he really wanted to go out and get a haircut and buy a one of a kind T-Shirt Donovan couldn't duplicate. He could almost understand how stars were constantly changing their images. He would never tease Kate about Natalie Rhodes again.

"When was the last time you saw Louise before the fight this afternoon?" Castle asked, unable to take it anymore.

Donovan barely shrugged. "I saw her before she headed out this morning." The studied air struck Castle as odd.

"It's unusual the doorman didn't see her leave the building this afternoon."

"She probably took the stairs. Terry isn't exactly famous for his exercise routine; he probably missed her in the elevator."

"Terry?"

"The doorman," Donovan looked at him like he was slow.

"Right. That's too bad," Castle added. "It would have been helpful if we knew which direction she headed after she left you. No pun included," he added, waving a finger at Donovan's face.

"Too bad," Donovan echoed, not amused.

"That's quite the bruise," Castle observed. "How big is Louise anyway? Just for a description."

"5'2? About 120 pounds," he sounded bored.

"So she got you with the fry pan, huh? No defensive marks on your hands; I guess she caught you by surprise," Castle paused for a response but got none. "Are you going to file any charges?"

"Hadn't thought about it," Donovan muttered.

"Well, if you are interested, get one of your doctors to take a photo for evidence," Castle advised him, looking a little more closely at the bruising on Donovan's face.

Donovan just nodded, his eyes scanning the open bay for Kate. It annoyed Castle, but his mind was puzzling over the bruise pattern enough that he chose to ignore Donovan's inappropriate interest in his partner. It was already starting to bruise purple despite being a fairly recent injury, consistent with considerable force. But there was just something about the way the hot raised skin that was mottling…Castle was still staring when Donovan turned to face him fully.

"I'm heading to the bathroom," the man announced.

"Ah, I think you should probably stay put until Detective Beckett gets back," Castle stalled. He cast his eyes around until he lit on a bed pan. Without thinking about hygiene, he stooped and retrieved it before offering it to the man on the bed who was now glaring at him.

"I'll close the curtains," Castle offered, looking down at the strangely-shaped piece of equipment. With a frown, he studied the round flat structure and then back up to Donovan's face, but he was already slipping off the bed and Castle didn't have any choice but to follow him down the hall, bed pan in hand.

…

"Hey Ryan," Kate spoke into the receiver, shielding it from the latent sounds of the hospital.

"Hey, Beckett," he greeted her. "How's it going with Donovan?"

"Good actually; I might have a lead. Look, can you get a phone number for me? Kristie O'Sullivan. Her mother was one of our cases about two months ago."

"Yeah, sure. I remember it, but Beckett, before you go Esposito has some news. Hold?"

"Okay." The empty air made it clear to her that she was replying to someone who was already gone. She cast her eyes around the entrance of the hospital, thankful it wasn't crowded and she hadn't been forced outside or into a bathroom to talk. The corridor upstairs was sufficiently quiet but the glares from all the medical staff made it uncomfortable enough she had consented to move the offensive device away.

"Beckett?"

"Espo?"

"Hey. I was able to get a lock on where the photo was taken last night. Witnesses were a bust," he added before she could ask. "But I asked your doorman anyway, and she was there. Beckett, he said he saw Louise last night. She was actually trying to get up and see you. He said she looked really tense so he didn't let her up."

"Where did she go after that?" Maybe this woman wasn't a ghost after all.

"Your doorman said she headed north. He was off shift when you left this morning so he didn't get a chance to tell you. Ryan's working on finding video footage now."

"Okay," she breathed. "Thanks Esposito. I've got someone who might be able to give us a location and motive; Ryan is getting the number now."

"Let us know."

"Will do."

…

"Hello Kristie, this is Detective Beckett." She kept her eyes on her shoes watching the contact and hearing the firm click of the heel against the linoleum.

"Detective Beckett," the voice was warm enough despite the basis of their acquaintance that Beckett had to wonder if Donovan wasn't wrong about Kristie's slight obsession. It was possible; after all, losing her mother had warped her relationship with Royce.

"I'm sorry for the call," Kate paused, thinking about how best to broach the subject.

"Don't," the voice on the other end caught. "Please don't tell me…"

"No!" Kate hastily exclaimed. "Nothing like that." the sigh of relief was clearly audible. Kate remembered that relief was never a feeling she had experienced after a phone call with the police after her mother was murdered. "I just have a few questions for you."

"About my Mom?" the voice was so much smaller than it had been when she answered the phone and Kate wanted to kick herself for putting her through it all again.

"Not exactly. Firstly, how are you?" She owed Kristie that.

"Fine," came the automatic answer and Kate decided to wait her out, wait for the truth. "Better," Kristie managed a few seconds later after a deep breath. "I'm really doing much better."

"I'm happy to hear that."

"Thank you, Detective. But I'm sure that isn't the reason you're calling." Avoidance.

"I actually wanted to ask you about your friend, Louise Prenton."

"Who?"

"Louise Prenton?" Beckett frowned. Had she picked the wrong case? The time line fit, the daughter-mother relationship fit. She would have remembered any cases like those: they were harder.

"I'm sorry, Detective. I don't know any Louise Prenton."

Kate felt her hope sink sickly. "Oh. Well, thank you all the same. I'm sorry to have bothered you, but it's good to hear you're doing well."

"I really am. My brother got a new apartment and I got a new boyfriend."

"Oh?" more than half her attention was working over the cases again, trying to find the right one.

"He's nice. He understands," Kate could practically hear the smile. "He does have this urge to wrap me up in bubble wrap and hide me away sometimes though," Kristie's exasperation snuck through at the end.

"I know the feeling," Kate agreed wryly.

"It's not bad," Kristie offered shyly. "It's better than my ex. He just didn't understand when my Mom died. He tried; I know he did, but…"

"I'm sorry." She was and she was a little guilty that she could focus all her attention on the conversation.

"Don't be. He actually liked you a lot."

"I don't remember him," Kate frowned.

"I don't think you ever met, but he saw you walk me out of the precinct one time. He was always asking what you said, maybe looking for hints about the right things to say."

"What was his name?" Kate asked, feeling a tightening in her shoulders.

"My ex? Tom. Tom Donovan."

…

There were definite downsides to being a cop, homicide or otherwise. One of those was a very graphic imagination when considering all the things that could go wrong when you left someone you loved alone with a crazy person. She had been too eager to get away from Thomas Donovan to think about what would happen if she left them alone together. The furthest the thought had gone was her consideration that Castle wouldn't do anything too rash when they were being watched by so many medical staff.

When she got off the elevator she broke into a light jog, ignoring the looks she got. People ran in hospitals all the time. The sound of her heels alerted the medical team at the small station and a doctor stepped out to intercept her.

"Can I help you?"

"NYPD," she flashed her badge impatiently. "I'm here for Thomas Donovan," she tried to move around him but the older man tried to turn and follow her, blocking the hallway.

"Ah yes, Mr. Donovan. Some bruises and a slight contusion to the back of the head."

She tried to push past.

"There's no need to hurry, Detective," the man tried to assure her, looking up at her with comforting eyes from under a pair of shockingly white eyebrows. "He'll be fine. We have security, though from what I could see, the injuries were self-inflicted."

Beckett froze.

"What?"

"The bruises don't support an assault," he told her very earnestly.

Leaving the small man behind, she ran past the rest of the staff at the desk and the few people waiting in the chairs until she could see the far end of the ward. The curtains were still drawn back but the only person she could see was a nurse with an armful of new linens who had paused in surprise to watch Beckett's abrupt arrival.

"Where are they?" she demanded. The nurse looked flustered, looking around for support.

"They?" the doctor caught up to her.

"Where are they?" she snapped at the nurse again, her breath barely squeezing through the panic crushing her chest.

"Mr. Donovan?" the young woman stammered. "He and his brother?"

Kate just stared at her.

"They left about ten minutes ago."

**Thanks for reading. Let me know what you thought?**


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: The wording is mine but the characters aren't.

**I think I know where I'm going with this fic now, but I'm thinking of a break until there is more interest. The last chapter was difficult to write and 4 reviews was a little disheartening (I know that's selfish).**

**Thanks to those who have left reviews, they're really encouraging. **

Are you following?

…..

_Leaving the small man behind, she ran past the rest of the staff at the desk and the few people waiting in the chairs until she could see the far end of the ward. The curtains were still drawn back but the only person she could see was a nurse with an armful of new linens who had paused in surprise to watch Beckett's abrupt arrival._

"_Where are they?" she demanded. The nurse looked flustered, looking around for support._

"_They?" the doctor caught up to her._

"_Where are they?" she snapped at the nurse again, her breath barely squeezing through the panic crushing her chest._

"_Mr. Donovan?" the young woman stammered. "He and his brother?"_

_Kate just stared at her._

"_They left about ten minutes ago."_

…

9.

"Who takes their car when they're only going a few blocks?" Esposito slid the transmission into drive with impatient force.

"She needed a place to wait until Beckett got home?" The sound of their seatbelts clicking off were synchronized.

With Beckett's apartment being in a largely residential part of town, there were very few security cameras. It had taken a lot of time and patience from both of the doormen on her building to get a description of a car that was frequently seen parked on the same block. A dark navy sedan, a Japanese import. It seemed neither of the two men were very good at remembering the names. A Hyundai or a Honda. Hell, it might have even been a Toyota.

They did notice the woman sitting in the car twice though.

Louise Prenton.

Didn't they know Beckett's last apartment went up in smoke? They really should be warned to pay attention to loiterers. Knowing the trouble Beckett and Castle attracted, there was a chance this wouldn't be the last time.

Serial killers, snipers, stalkers…

"This just doesn't seem right," Esposito shook his head, sliding smoothly from the sedan and ushering the door closed with a crisp snap.

Ryan glanced at him across the roof in the evening air outside the same apartment building for the second time today.

"Stalkers are happy to stay hidden," Esposito tried to reason. "They just watch until they're ready to make a move."

"Maybe this is her move?" Ryan suggested uneasily.

"What?" Esposito couldn't keep the frustrated edge out of his voice. ""What is her move?"

"I don't know. She wanted to see Beckett last night."

"So where the hell is she now?"

"She wants Beckett to come and find her?" Ryan hazarded, obviously channeling Castle.

It wasn't a bad theory and it gave him something to argue; helped him to clarify why he thought it was wrong: what he thought was the right answer. Is this how Beckett worked?

Beckett. He was not going to let this become another Dunn case.

"She's clean," Esposito grumbled. "How does she just disappear and then come back to knock Donovan around?" That took planning, connections or training. Louise Prenton was a veritable girl scout. He doubted they were teaching girl scouts how to disappear, and if they were, that should probably be addressed.

"I don't blame her," Ryan muttered, joining his partner and making for the lights of Louise Prenton's lobby. He had been off balance since going through the photos, obviously creeped out on Beckett's behalf.

"Wish we could get a warrant to check out his place, too. The guy's a nut job."

"Agreed," Ryan flashed his badge at the evening doorman.

The apartment was all in order with no signs of a struggle, though Esposito doubted the CSU technicians had extended their services to housecleaning. There was just obviously not much to find- the dude got hit with a pan; not exactly the blood he was used to as a homicide detective.

"CSU report said fire escape hasn't been touched," Ryan offered, coming back into the main room from the bedroom, camera in hand.

"Anything else?" Esposito asked.

"I got nothing. No other photos. No Nikki Heat. I checked all the drawers and the closet too."

What kind of stalker this pronounced, had a place that clean and free of indicators? It just wasn't right.

"I'm telling you, bro, this is wrong."

.

"We would just appreciate it if you could give us a call if you see her," Ryan tried to placate the evening doorman; he wasn't nearly as affable as his daytime counterpart.

"When was the last time you saw Ms Prenton?" Esposito tried again.

The man gave a sharp nod and a small smile to a resident who brushed past them before he answered, "I saw Ms. Prenton last night. She and Mr. Donovan went out about 10."

"And what time did she leave this morning?" Ryan had his notebook out.

"I didn't see her this morning."

The two detectives shared a look. "When we talked to your colleague this afternoon, he said he hadn't seen her since yesterday."

"Then she must not have come back yet," the doorman sighed.

"Yet?" Esposito pressed.

"Sure," the man answered, responding to the urgency in the detective's voice with a slightly quicker answer. "I didn't see her come home last night after they left at 10."

"But Donovan was in her apartment at noon. He said he saw her off this morning," Ryan insisted.

The two detectives froze at Ryan's phrasing.

"Yes. They left together, but Mr. Donovan drove the car back alone; I guess he stayed the night."

"What time was that?"

The man squinted a little, trying to recall. "It must have been around 11.30."

"After Louise tried to get in to see Beckett," Ryan dropped his head back and squeezed his eyes shut.

"Sir, where is that car?" Esposito asked.

…

It felt wrong and somewhat perverted, but Castle listened intently after the bathroom stall shut. He didn't extend the same courtesy to his other senses however, keeping his breathing even through his mouth. While it wasn't the first time he had paid attention in a bathroom, in fact he got a surprising number of details there- tattoos often showed up in fascinating places, he had never followed a man into the bathroom. Women? That was another story – one he had to make sure Kate never found out.

If his alert system wasn't trilling as insistently, he would not be here.

He heard a thin tinkle and almost shook his head. Thomas Donovan didn't need a cubicle, he just had size issues.

Didn't he want to see how he measured up to the man he was impersonating?

Castle set aside the bedpan on the sink that tucked itself in against two walls in the corner of the room and pulled out his phone. There was no message from Kate yet, but that was merely a matter of time.

It didn't take a bestselling author to image what her reaction might be if she got back to find both of them gone with no clues. Her mental health won out over the threat of bodily harm and he typed out a single word text before Donovan emerged from his hideaway.

_Toilet. _

He pursed his lips and added _4__th__ floor_ as he heard the toilet flush. He sent it quickly and opened up Angry Birds to explain the device in his hands. He admittedly was a little transparent in his exaggerated facial expressions and shaking the phone, making up for the lack of sound, but if his suspicions were correct, Donovan wasn't really a genius.

The man in question glared at him in the mirror as he soaped his hands diligently. Castle knew the expression was probably more likely to be due to personal animosity rather than suspicion regardless of the fact that acting seemed to have skipped him. But he was cautious in placing himself in the path of the exit as casually as he was able, pocketing the device without regard to his high score.

When he profiled people, one of the parties was usually restrained. He preferred it when it wasn't him. So this casual setting was new to him. How do you profile someone who would run?

Castle lamented not having a badge; at least that way Donovan couldn't file assault charges if it came down to physical intervention.

From the level of dedication Donovan was showing his soapy hands, he was more than officious enough to try anyway.

Obsessive.

"Stop staring," Donovan said shortly, meeting Castle's eyes in the mirror, breaking the silence he had kept since they left the treatment ward,.

"I spent a lot of time with a pathologist a few years back," Castle confided, figuring this was the most isolated and safest place to start, especially with Kate on the way. He could hold this narrow doorway. "You know, for research. Now, not that I'm an expert, but when I look at your face- it looks to me like you just smacked into a wall," Castle squinted and then corrected himself, certainty rising. "Actually, not a wall. I'm thinking a door or a doorjamb," his face was hard, inspired by the edge of the door frame uncomfortably digging into is shoulder. "From the side, by the looks of things. I understand why you wouldn't go at it head-on; nose injuries are surprisingly painful and it's hard to un-break a crooked nose."

"What?" Donovan slowly shut off the water.

"You caught the side of your mouth too though, didn't you? It's swollen," Castle pointed out. "Fry pans have quite the diameter, just like a bedpan. If you were hit by something like that, your cheek bone, mouth and your nose should be blue right now."

Donovan tensed at the accusations, his mouth thinning.

"Well?" Castle asked. "If it's true, you might want to avoid filing those charges, no doctor who sees the photos is going to buy your fry pan story."

"So maybe I walked into the door." Donovan offered tersely. "Maybe I thought if everyone thought she attacked me, you would lock her away. Do you know what it's like to be with someone like her? She's completely insane!" Donovan paused what was quickly becoming an outburst for air and Castle considered telling him he didn't know crazy until he lived with Meredith. "Why do you think I have to dress like this?" Donovan continued, plucking at the plain white T-shirt, leaving water prints behind.

Castle nodded sympathetically and saw the other man relax marginally. "That was quite well done," Castle complimented him. "Especially for improv: very convincing. My mother would be impressed."

Donovan's face went carefully blank. "I don't know what you mean."

"I've also seen more than my fair share of the obsessive. We both know Louise doesn't fit into that category, but I'm sure Kristie has already told Beckett that by now. "

"Who?" Donovan's face was black.

"Kristie O'Sullivan," Castle repeated. "That was who you were talking about back at your bed, wasn't it? Beckett doesn't forget."

The crash that followed that statement was unexpected.

**Thanks for reading. Let me know what you thought?**


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: The wording is mine but the characters aren't.

**You're right. Drama is drama, no matter how many people are writing it at the same time. Angst and fluff are contagious at the moment.**

**So I'll finish this one, rather than wait for that to settle a bit.**

**Enjoy.**

Are you following?

…..

"_Who?" Donovan's face was black._

"_Kristie O'Sullivan," Castle repeated. "That was who you were talking about back at your bed, wasn't it? Beckett doesn't forget."_

_The crash that followed that statement was unexpected._

…

10.

"Well, it was a long shot." Ryan resignedly turned off his flashlight and stowed it back in his jacket pocket.

"I hate this case."

"Right there with you on that one. Maybe if we get a warrant we can open it up."

"Get a warrant with what?" Esposito sounded disgusted. "It's a Japanese import?" he leaned his weight back on the trunk and huffed out all his breath.

Ryan moved to his side sympathetically, hands still shoved deep into his pockets, but stopped just as he turned to mirror his partner's position.

"What is that?" he squinted off Esposito's elbow. Esposito pushed himself up and scanned the navy finish.

"Where?" he asked.

"There," Ryan pointed. "It's catching the light differently," he kept staring at the spot, closing in until his finger hovered over it.

Esposito stooped to examine it.

"Blood."

.

Well he wouldn't have to worry about holding the door anymore; Donovan clearly wasn't going anywhere.

Castle's eyes fluttered again as more blood made its way onto his eyelid and teased at his eyelashes. It stung. He wanted to check it out and see how bad it was but the mirror was sagging in odd web-like cracks or in small pieces on the floor, his jacket and his hair.

"You really have to stop throwing things," Castle offered, wincing and brushing the blood away with his sleeve. It made it sting worse and he had to wonder if he hadn't just rubbed small grains of glass into the cuts.

Kate was not going to be happy. Thank God Alexis already moved out.

"Shut up!" All of Donovan's composure had completely deserted him. Not a criminal mastermind.

"Do yourself a favor and turn yourself in; a stalking rap isn't the end of the world."

"No!"

"You locked yourself, unarmed, in a toilet stall in a public hospital with security; the same building as the police detective who already knows where you are and is going to arrest you."

"Of course she knows where I am. Kate always knows."

Castle wasn't sure if the drop in his stomach was blood loss or nausea.

"You have some serious problems you need to address."

"Oh just give me a chance," the man spat.

Castle wondered at the intensity. Donovan had been fine, cordial even, this morning until the laptop was found. He certainly hadn't displayed any desire to physically remove Castle from the picture. Of course, he had been too fixed on Kate.

Kate, his eyes slipped shut, recalling his own play back at Louise's apartment. He had kissed Kate and Donovan lost it.

The clothes? The irregular moods? Oh, this guy had a serious case of identity crisis. Castle had to think about where that left Louise to fit into this mess. Fellow obsessive?

"Where's Louise?"

"What do you care?"

"Come on, Tom. Don't make this any worse."

"You really are pathetic," Donovan shot back. "That's why Kate is going to choose me."

"No, Louise chose you." He hoped that didn't remind him how Kristie had obviously not; she had dumped him in favor of Kate by Donovan's reasoning. The blood flow was slowing, so he attributed the itch as it starting to dry or the maddeningly slow speed it had been reduced to. It felt like slow insects crawling down from his hairline, burrowing into his eyebrows and inevitably converging on his eyes.

"Pathetic." Castle wasn't sure if the scorn in the statement was for him or Louise.

"There's no way out, Tom," he tried to reason. Personally he was perfectly happy with the guy locked away until his partner or security arrived. Security preferably; he didn't want Kate getting anywhere near Donovan unless he was restrained.

"Kate'll get me out." More shuffling came from inside the walls. "She'll get me out," he muttered lowly.

Hopefully in handcuffs.

He reached for his phone, only now thinking to call since his subtle solo attempt had failed. Two missed calls. Oh, she was going to kill him.

"Castle?" The voice came from outside the entrance, probably bouncing around the female bathrooms as well.

Speak of the …angel. Very scary angel.

"In here," he called out of habit, knowing she was coming in anyway.

"Castle!" Kate's voice echoed off the sheathed walls, mixing with the sharp footfalls announcing her hurried stride.

"Do you know how many toilets there are on the fourth floor?" she demanded as she cleared the short hall and, highly flustered looking, erupted into the men's bathroom.

"No," he replied honestly. Breathing came easier at the sight of her and the situation seemed salvageable until he watched the color drain from her face.

"What the hell happened?"

Castle pivoted to look at the destroyed wall of glass and the dented bedpan lying amongst the shards of mirror.

"That wasn't me," he defended himself, blinking to dislodge the blood from his eyes again after the movement. "He threw it at me. Only my amazing reflexes saved me from involuntary brain surgery." Or that Donovan's hands were still wet when he snatched at the bedpan and threw it, making for lousy grip and aim.

Kate picked her way through the glass and he tensed himself only to be pleasantly surprised when she didn't slow but just wrapped herself around him with a swift strength which drove air from his lungs.

"You ever disappear on me like that again and I will kill you," she whispered into the side of his face. He was taken aback to feel her hands trembling as badly as her voice.

"Kate."

He pulled away to look at her and felt a low stab when she didn't have the presence of mind to even try and hide herself. Her eyes were glazed with chaos, swirling with tears and too many emotions to pin.

"Hey," he whispered, brushing her cheek. "I'm fine." His statement was offset by a wince when he realized he had just smeared a light trail of blood across her face.

"Have you looked at yourself lately?" she choked.

"Kind of hard to," he withdrew his hand and scuffed at a shard on the floor. "The bright side is he has seven years of bad luck."

He wasn't sure if the sound which escaped from her was more of a growl or a sob and her knuckles were white where they clenched at his jacket.

"You have to let go," he told her gently. He wrapped his hands around hers and slowly intertwined them, pulling them away from the thick material still dusted with tiny sharp slivers. It was probably thanks to his jacket that he made it through the rain of glass as unscathed as he did. Her breath caught at the blood he left behind when he let her go and closed her eyes, obviously trying to regain her composure.

"He's in there," Castle offered helpfully. "Unarmed and unstable."

She fisted a handful of paper hand towels and gently placed them to his forehead, indicating he should apply pressure himself.

Right. He should have thought of that.

"Donovan, you are under arrest for assault," she paused to shoot him a glance but he held up his hands –he was totally for the charges this time, "Obstruction, damage of public property and I will be filing stalking charges. Now get out of that cubicle before I shoot you."

There was no reply.

"Donovan!" she barked.

"You don't mean that, Katie."

"Like hell I don't! Last chance, Donovan!"

Inside the stall, all went quiet.

She began to use her shoes to clear a space on the floor where she could stand safely and kick down the door. The last thing he wanted however was her heels sliding on some unseen small shard and her landing in the shrapnel.

Castle turned on the faucet. "Wait, I've got an idea."

He pulled out his wallet and fished around until he found a dime. Kate just stared at him but he jerked his head towards the closed cubicle and began to move as quietly as he could over the mess on floor, hoping the sound of the rushing water would be enough to mask it.

He felt her warmth come to rest a cautious distance behind his back and in his peripheral saw her arms brace themselves and her weapon into the regulation triangle. With bated breath he slipped the edge of the coin into the engaged mechanism, into the small crevice designed for a screwdriver and twisted slowly anti-clockwise and watched the red slowly give way to green.

He shoved the door in forcefully, hoping to knock the man off balance and make restraining him easier. In the same movement Kate surged past his shoulder, weapon raised in warning.

But Donovan must have suspected something and had already retreated to the elevated safety of the closed toilet lid. He flinched a little as the door abruptly granted his attackers access, but it spurred him into action and he sprung for escape.

…

**Thanks for reading. Let me know what you thought?**


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: The wording is mine but the characters aren't.

**Almost done with this one now. (I sorted it out! Yay)**

**Enjoy.**

Are you following?

…..

_He shoved the door in forcefully, hoping to knock the man off balance and make restraining him easier. In the same movement Kate surged past his shoulder, weapon raised in warning._

_But Donovan must have suspected something and had already retreated to the elevated safety of the closed toilet lid. He flinched a little as the door abruptly granted his attackers access, but it spurred him into action and he sprung for escape._

…

11.

Donovan's kick went wide. She had to assume he was aiming for the gun she hadn't actually cocked. When the leather shoes came into sharp contact with her wrist instead, though controlled by her evasion, she was glad she hadn't, as the pressure was enough to make her involuntarily drop the weapon.

She ducked to retrieve it and felt a brush of air against her head as Donovan jumped over her and crashed into Castle who hadn't moved from his crouched position by the door frame.

"NYPD! Freeze!" she called, picking up her weapon and a few shards of glass at the same time.

Donovan ignored her, almost in the cover of the hall now despite his unsteady landing.

"Great," she hissed, holstering her weapon and scuffing her way across the room rather than losing time balancing on top of the debris. Like slogging through very sharp snow drifts.

"Castle, you coming?"

"Right behind you," he answered, the larger surface area of his shoes having little difficultly. He made it into the hall before she cleared the room and disappeared out into the main hospital. When she made it to his side he was already starting to take off down the corridor.

"He just ducked into the stairwell," Castle panted.

Back on even ground, she easily flanked him and withdrew her weapon as she ran. She wasn't sure if the few screams she heard were in response to her gun or Castle's gruesome appearance.

Running with his blood loss was not going to be kind to him later.

She closed in on the door first, taking the second before Castle caught up to scan the landing through the thin panel of glass. She nodded to him and he swung the door open and she slipped through, eyes trained up the stairwell. The guy liked to jump – she could see him hiding out of view a few steps up before springing. She was not going to make the same mistake twice.

But the door rebounded too quickly, clipping her shoulder hard and crashing back on Castle who had just started to follow.

In the corner, under the pane of glass Donovan had crouched, not unlike a child in hide-and-seek with a painfully obvious hiding spot. While not visible from the corridor, now they were both in the staircase, Donovan was completely open.

The same thought seemed to occur to him and he launched himself at her, bodily connecting with her legs and forcing her arms to clutch at his shoulders in an attempt to stay on her feet.

Castle made it through the door and she caught his forearm with her free hand, releasing her hold on Donovan. Now a little more stable she brought her knee up and it connected forcibly into Donovan's guts. The man's grip around her waist fell away as his abdominal muscles automatically curled him up in reaction to the pain.

He dropped to his knees, wheezing.

"Thomas Donovan, you are under arrest," she growled, moving to stand over him and cocking her gun. "Now stand up and face the wall."

"I know you don't want to do this, Katie," he managed between breaths.

"You made my partner bleed," she kept it simple. The last thing she wanted was him holding more of a grudge when he got out of prison.

"Partner," he sneered.

She felt Castle come to stand directly behind her shoulder. "That's right," she said flatly. "Now on your feet."

The prone man's eyes flickered back and forth between the two edgily, his anger not seeming to make a distinction between them anymore as it climbed the walls. She knew she was stalling but Donovan refused to move. Until he was on his feet, or at least his knees and facing the wall, she was loath to drop her gun in favor of her handcuffs. Unfortunately she couldn't legally ask Castle to cuff Donovan or take up active guard either.

"Don't even think about it," she recognized the rabbit-like look. "Castle, could you?" she jerked her chin at the staircase.

Castle nodded and stepped around Donovan to block his escape down the staircase.

Crazy eyes. Thomas Donovan officially had crazy eyes; a factor Castle thankfully paid due attention to when he gingerly skirted around him to take up post on the lip of the staircase.

"Get up," Kate commanded.

Donovan must have read enough into her expression to start taking her order seriously. Far from looking resigned however, he looked furious and it didn't take a genius profiler or a psychologist to figure out the reason. He had been rejected again. Not just rejected. To add injury to insult, the same woman was now going to arrest him and charge him with stalking.

He slowly got up from his curled position on the floor and pulled himself onto all fours, facing her.

"Now face the wall," she said calmly.

The slight shift of his weight onto his hands was all the warning she got before his foot shot out backwards, connecting just below Castle's knee with a solid crunch. Her partner may have been suspecting something along those lines because his arms were grasping at the same leg which had struck him in an attempt not to fall head-first back down the stairs.

The sudden drop of her stomach made her nauseous as she watched his face contort first in pain and then in realization when the ground under him disappeared. The kick had shunted his leg back and off the step, but had conversely thrown his center of gravity forward just enough that he stood, flailing, his momentum undecided.

Gun still in hand she reached for him desperately, before he swung back out of reach.

Her fingers closed on his jacket arm but her single handed grip wasn't enough to more than barely influence the trajectory of his fall as he teetered on the edge.

Kate felt his weight pull him away from her, not even granting her the time to articulate the physical panic- a sickening vertigo somewhere between her throat and her stomach and the almost painful thud of her heart.

But he hadn't been idle in the bare second she had bought him, catching at the closest hold: Donovan. Falling sideways now, he landed bodily on the other man, his unexpected weight collapsing the man's braced arms and cracking his head nastily against the floor.

It took a second for Castle to do anything more than blink. Then he brought his head up and looked around, caught between relief and surprise, a hand absently going to his elbow which had hit the floor when Donovan gave out. Beckett was tangled in a similar stunned mess, feeling winded trying to navigate the emotions she had been swayed by in the last 24 hours.

"Castle?" she managed, needing to hear him say something, to give her something external to focus on.

"Yeah," he nodded.

She took a step forward, unsure who she was moving for, as Castle looked down at the reason for his soft landing. Donovan was sprawled out cold. Castle rolled off to give her access, wincing a little and rubbing at his shin.

She forced herself to stand over Donovan, her thumb barely steady enough to reengage the safety in the abrupt let down of adrenaline. Her movements to extract her cuffs were also a far cry from her usual swift efficiency.

At least Donovan showed no signs of moving any time soon.

"Well that made it easier," she huffed, standing again, surveying the cuffs resting securely against Donovan's back.

Castle however frowned, then hissed lowly as the movement pulled at the gashes on his face. They couldn't carry the unconscious man anywhere; he wasn't allowed to and she wasn't going to by herself. Today had not been a good day. "Yeah, but now what do we do with him?" he asked.

Huh.

They glanced at each other before he shrugged and she scuffed out a small amused puff of air.

…

**Thanks for reading. Let me know what you thought?**

**Last chapter up when I get back from my last trip in Japan. Uminohi in Yakushima!**


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: The wording is mine but the characters aren't.

**So, torrential rain and flooding (more than normal for the monsoon season here) meant I couldn't get to Yakushima. Very bummed, but I thought I'd post the last chapter early.**

**Enjoy.**

**Thanks to all who have followed and supported the story.**

Also in the last chapter Castle couldn't cuff Donovan because, while he may be able to pass her the cuffs, he doesn't have the jurisdiction to use them. Wouldn't want the wierdo to get away on a technicality.

Are you following?

…..

_At least Donovan showed no signs of moving any time soon. _

"_Well that made it easier," she huffed, standing again, surveying the cuffs resting securely against Donovan's back._

_Castle however frowned, then hissed lowly as the movement pulled at the gashes on his face. They couldn't carry the unconscious man anywhere; he wasn't allowed to and she wasn't going to by herself. Today had not been a good day. "Yeah, but now what do we do with him?" he asked._

_Huh._

_They glanced at each other before he shrugged and she scuffed out a small amused puff of air. _

…

Last:

.

"An update?"

"Yeah," she eased herself down next to him, sliding in until their sides were welded together. "Ryan was just calling to let us know they got the statement and were heading home."  
"Louise woke up," Castle surmised.

"Looks like she was never put to sleep; apparently she passed out."

"I don't blame her; she was locked in that trunk so long," he weaseled his arm behind her back and tried to lift her into his lap. After letting him tug on her fruitlessly for a few seconds, she scooted herself. There wasn't anywhere else she wanted to be.

"So what was the prognosis?"  
"Dehydration, shock, and a little banged up. They're keeping her overnight with supplementary oxygen and fluids. Ryan said she was having panic attacks in the smaller rooms so they set her up in a shared space when they got her statement. Her mother is coming in from White Plains; a uniform is picking her up because she has no transport this late."

"I hope that helps, poor woman," he trailed off and they were left to their separate contemplation. He didn't pause from fingering circles over her knee cap when he spoke next, "You know I couldn't open the freezer for over a month?" Castle confided.

She craned her neck to look at him. His tone was light but the lines of his face portrayed his gravity and once again she regretted that she hadn't done more to help him in the days after they stopped the city exploding.

"Alexis said she was happy she didn't have to buy ice cream as much since she was the only one eating it," he smiled, eyes nostalgic. "Except she wasn't eating much either…might have freaked her out over a human popsicle joke. Between that and being locked in a car trunk with you…"he gave her a playful squeeze. "I think I can understand how Louise might still be a little on edge."

"That's funny; I seem to recall you being fairly calm when we were shut in a car trunk."

"I can't imagine why."  
"Maybe because you were convinced a certain curvy CIA operative was going to rescue us at any moment?" she offered lightly, slightly hesitant to bring up said agent.

"You'd think so, wouldn't you?" he kissed the side of her head where it was docked up against him. "But no."

"No?"

"No. She was the last person I wanted to show up because I was this close to losing control with you squirming around like that." She jerked away from him before his fingers had a chance to explore. She knew there was no way he would be able to resist tickling her if she was sitting in his lap and he was allowed to use the word 'squirm' in a sentence.

"Well, I'm sorry," she told him facetiously, a smirk on her face from managing to escape his attack. "I was under the impression you liked it when I squirm on you."

"I do. I'm a fan of writhing too, in case you're compiling a list." His eyebrows were carefully still, but she attributed that to the stitches in his forehead.

"Noted."

"Care to squirm, Detective?" he offered archly.

"I think I'll pass," she declined but settled back against him all the same. "How's the face?"

"Ruggedly handsome."

She hummed, not vocally disagreeing with him. Her hand reached up and began slowly trailing over his face without turning to look over at him. It had to be hard on her arm, reaching up and behind like that but he allowed her to continue all the same just as he had ignored the way she had hovered all night.

He was afraid to push her away even though he had a sinking fear she was going to resent him for it later. He didn't want to let her go.

"We lost another chance today," she whispered.

It didn't make sense. Once again the workings of her mind were beyond his comprehension and the undiluted pain in her voice made him fearful to intrude without an invitation. She slowly angled herself from resting her back against his chest until her shoulder was tucked into the crease of his arm and she could nuzzle her face under his chin. It was Beckett's fragile position, curling up into him. Above hiding her face from him by facing or walking away, she was hiding in him, like he could ward off the world.

He had only seen it once or twice but knew she would not settle until she was completely curled into him, legs draped over his in a way which evoked Alexis falling asleep against him as a toddler. Castle took her knees and directed her to turn into him more fully, giving them a quick squeeze before replacing his cheek on her head.

They waited that way; for her mind to settle and for his anger she was hurting again to subside.

"Every day people die and every day we work to find out what happens to just a fraction of them," she murmured, the words half-obscured against his neck. "We see how easy it is to lose someone; a fall, an accident, someone just trying to do the right thing. The stupidest reasons and the most random mistakes."

She paused to study their interlaced fingers, watching his thick fingers tease at the rough white wrist support wrapped around her thumb.

"Sometimes I wonder how you're still alive," she whispered.

He hated this, that he still hadn't managed to convince her this was real and he wasn't going anywhere. He hated that she was so fragile. Some people might be happy that she was upset about his admittedly minor injuries; that it validated her feelings for him, but the only thing he felt any relief over was that she wasn't keeping it all to herself anymore.

He hoped it wouldn't take the rest of their lives to convince her to stop living on borrowed time.

"We're still alive, Kate. You and me."

"You got closer today." To leaving me. It was left unsaid, but it didn't mean it wasn't communicated.

"I'm not a cat," he ran his thumbs in circles over her abdomen. "It's not like I have nine lives before the end."

"Maybe not," she granted. "But how many chances can one person honestly have? How many more times am I going to have to watch and think that it's the last chance?"

Snipers, stalkers, murderers, bombs, bank robberies…most people didn't have such ridiculous good luck. Or bad luck.

"I don't know any more than you do. Than any of us do." He wanted to tell her he wouldn't leave, that he would outlast her, but he wouldn't lie to her that way and she wouldn't believe him anyway.

"I can't do it," she admitted. "Couldn't do it."

His silence wasn't one of incomprehension; he knew exactly what she meant. Doing it alone. Recovering from something like that. His silence was because he didn't know what to say.

"I'm not as strong as you," her grip on him was painfully tight and he choked back the rage. Fourteeen years ago they hadn't just stolen her mother, her innocence. They had broken her. How dare they plant the seed of doubt? Kate Beckett should never be allowed to doubt herself that way.

He could tell her he had never met anyone stronger, but he could talk to a brick wall as well. She would never believe she was strong enough. Just because he came back and they kept living after that one summer he had watched her die didn't mean he was stronger. She had to take him off that pedestal.

"I'm not strong, Kate," he pulled her away from her shelter against his neck and forced her to look at him. "I'm not. That's why we're partners. Because I don't trust anyone else."

Irrational. Of course a trained cop could protect her better than he could. Didn't she see how backwards she could make him? Irrational. Emotional. Pathetic. She saw the weaknesses, but he had never been happier. Happy enough to know something this terrifying was real.

"I wouldn't cope, just waiting for you to come home," he told her thickly.

She drew in a shaky breath, "I want to come home to you so badly," she confessed.

"So we're agreed," he hoped his sense of finality made it through to her. "But you know the awesome thing about shadows," his grin was more than a little wobbly. "Is that they never leave."

"They do," she argued almost automatically. "In the dark."

"No, then they're all around you."

"In the light," she countered, a small smile teasing at her lips.

"But they'll always be waiting," he said seriously.

"Of course," some of her stubborn spunk coming back into her eyes. "I told you once already today, you are never to disappear on me again."

"Sounds to me like you have faith I've still got some chances left after all."

"You know what Castle?" she deliberately wriggled against him, dislodging his hands until they fell to clutch at her thighs. "I do."

"You do?" he smiled gently at her.

"Read my lips," she suggested with a quirked brow. " I. Do."

…

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End file.
